


Six Stages of Falling In Love With Her

by thescarletcentaur



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: ...a little bit of angst maybe idk, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescarletcentaur/pseuds/thescarletcentaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The six stages of falling in love with Felicity Smoak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Stages of Falling In Love With Her

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> This work is based around this poem here; http://smoakyfire.tumblr.com/post/88406335580/one-you-see-her-for-the-first-time-and-shell. 
> 
> I hope you're all well. Currently planning out Fancy, the AU I began - update on its way. Nearly done working on the next part of the He Didn't Even Say Goodbye series. If you haven't already, check it out.
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated.
> 
> This piece of work is unbeta'd - excuse any of my mistakes (I'm working on the editing thing.) 
> 
> Have a good week, everyone!xo 
> 
> You can find me at smoakyfire on tumblr, my new url.

**“One.  
You see her for the first time and she’ll walk right past you like you are a crack in the wall and she is a skyscraper with her head so high in the air and when you can’t sleep you’ll think about the way her eyes strayed into yours for a moment too long before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd of people.”**

He never mentions it. Oliver Queen knows he and Felicity collided long before he strode into her office with a handful of lies he intended on feeding her. It had been the hottest day of the year. Las Vegas was a furnace. Everywhere Oliver turned he was greeted by a wall of heat. More importantly to twenty one year old Oliver, the wall was accompanied by bare legs and bikinis.

So when a girl with hair so bright that it rivalled the sun beating down on Oliver’s back blinded him, he simply wrote her off as another piece of ass. A conquest. A play thing that he could coax into staying by his side for the summer, unbeknownst to Laurel.

She strode towards him, her smile lighting up her face to match her hair. Her hand was half-raised as the smile grew as she sped up her steps towards him. Oliver stood tall, confident, and ready to flash the cash and blow her away with his charm. Who wouldn’t want to spend a summer with him, the one and only Oliver Queen?

His parent’s announcement of ‘Vegas’ had immediately left him groaning. Who wanted to spend a summer where the only fun to be had was with alcohol that he didn’t have? They could have gone to St. Tropez, to the penthouse in Miami, the castle in England, anywhere but _Vegas._ However, if Vegas looked like this then God, he never wanted to leave.

The girl was almost in front of him, Oliver could reach out any moment now to trail his hands down her sun-soaked skin.

Only for her to glide on by.

She didn’t stop at Oliver. He wasn’t spared a second glance. The most baby billionaire was over-looked for a scrawny, younger boy accompanied by a rather vicious looking dog and a dripping ice-cream cone.

Just like that, she walked out of his life. After all, she was just a cameo role. An extra in the ‘trials and tribulations’ of Oliver Queen’s life. Little did he know, that one day she would be ‘cast’ as a lead role.

Something about the way her eyes sparkled and her laugh rang out made him stay longer. He lingered, watching her from afar. He felt rooted to the spot. He should go, she was just going to be another notch on his bedpost. Nothing more, nothing less. The way her eyes lit up at the ice cream, the over-dramatic way she wrapped her arms around the vicious animal as it licked her face whilst she giggled, made him think that perhaps, perhaps he would have got to know her. Perhaps they would have been something more. It was all ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have’ as Oliver stood watching wistfully.

Shaking his head, he wondered why he was still standing there. Shrugging whatever mini-breakdown he had off, he moved away from the bubbly blonde he was enchanted by.

The petite girl looked up, catching his gaze for a moment. Her brow furrowed, wavering at the stare he was currently giving her.

He looked away first.

As Oliver shut his eyes later that evening, her bright crystal eyes burned in the back of his mind. He wished he believe in red string and other nonsense tales that Raisa had told him as a youngster.

Maybe then, she would find her way back to him.

(She would.)

**“Two.** **  
She’ll look both ways before telling you she loves you under her breath and when she hugs you her eyes scan the empty room as if the walls had eyes and ears and mouths that could give you away.”**

A disaster.

It had been a disaster. Dig had ended up with a broken leg, an angry Felicity and the wrath of Lyla.

A classic mission gone wrong.

Oliver… things were worse for Oliver. Much, much worse. He hadn’t seen it coming. How had he not seen it coming? The chemical gases had filled up his lungs faster than anything had happened to him before.

He couldn’t see.

It surrounded him, enveloping him. The last thought that graced his mind before he passed out was how he would never see her again. Never see her shining, golden halo of hair. Never see the smile that lightened the darkest of nights. Never see her look into his eyes, free of judgement, ever again. Never be able to see what she looked like when he finally built up the courage to tell her that he loved her, every single part of her.

When he woke up, the darkness was still there. He could feel her presence though. He always knew. He noticed it long before she did. Just by her entering the room, he knew. In the same way that he knew when she had left.

Agonising discussions with the doctors eventually led to the conclusion that Oliver’s likelihood of regaining his vision back to normal were ninety-nine percent. A sigh of relief left him before he could stop himself. Suddenly, she was everywhere, in his arms and holding him so tightly. She whispered encouragement, whispered his thoughts of how she is ‘just so grateful that he’s alive because when the comms cut out, she thought he was gone and she would take any sort of injury over him being completely gone’. He found himself agreeing with her, a slight nod of the head to make her understand that he would take a thousand bullets, a thousand knives and endless hours of torture if it meant he was still there with her. That was all she needed. A slight nod.

Much to Oliver’s dismay, he wouldn’t be able to get on with it how he wanted. Oh no, Dig had arranged for him to stay with Felicity because Oliver’s track record of overdosing on pills to make him better wasn’t great.

Felicity, on the other hand, was just happy that he wouldn’t be alone. She knew that if he was alone, he would beat himself up, much more than any attacker or villain could ever do.

In an ideal world, Oliver would be able to rest. Take a few days off. Adjust to the minimal eyesight he currently had. Luck was never on Oliver’s side. No rest for the wicked, or something like that. Queen Consolidated required his undivided attention. It had taken another hit lately, a scandal in the Applied Sciences that even Felicity couldn’t erase.

Despite his protests, at seven o clock in the morning, both Felicity and he were out the door. Oliver was continually frustrated by the lack of vision. Useless. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even see where he was going. The sigh of frustration he let out was immediately picked up on by Felicity, who grabbed his hand and interlocked it with her own.

"We’re coming up to a road, Oliver."

He hummed in acknowledgement, slowing his pace to match hers.

He heard the roar of the traffic whizzing past them. He felt Felicity lean over to press the button for him, never once letting go of his hand. For once, he didn’t initiate any rejection towards her.

Sometimes, he thought that love didn’t need grand gestures. It wasn’t about fancy dinners or who could buy the most expensive gift. It was about moments like these, where Felicity looks both ways before crossing the road, whispering words of comfort as she gently squeezes his hand. It almost slips out of his mouth.

He promptly reminds himself that he doesn’t love Felicity. Even if he could, it is for the best that he doesn’t.

The pang in his heart proves it is another lie to add to his list.

Later when they finally arrive at his office, he lets another sigh of frustration out.

He hears her shut the door carefully. He is met by a pause. Suddenly, instead of a welcoming hand, he is met with an embrace. He tenses at first before he relaxes into his arms.

"You paused?" he questioned.

"I didn’t want anyone to see."

Puzzled, he must have changed his facial expression in some shape or form because Felicity is babbling at a million miles an hour. A regular occurrence, this time she’s apologising for saying she didn’t want to be seen, something about fuelling rumours.

He wishes his eyesight would come back because all Oliver wants is to see her cheeks tint pink.

**“Three.** **  
When she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.”**

"H-he was just there and then he wasn’t and I couldn’t stop it," her voice shook.

Felicity was shaking, her hands grasping on to Oliver’s shirt as words that she had held back for so long tumbled from her mouth.

Another shaky breath and she began again, "He just walked out, he walked out. I always say he walked out on us, I always leave it there. When people ask me, ask me what happened to my dad. I tell them he walked out. He walked out, oh he walked out. He walked out into the road. I didn’t stop it, Oliver. I didn’t stop it. I saw the car coming, I saw it coming and I didn’t say anything – who, w-who does that?" The tears slipped down her cheeks, "he broke her. My mother. He coloured her black and blue. For a split second, I just thought ‘what if?’ and then the blood, it was everywhere. Leaking, leaking out of him into endless, crimson pools. My split-second of ‘what if?’ became my instant reality."

She continued sobbing, the tears falling faster than before. He didn’t speak, instead he just stroked her back, wondering how she kept this locked away in the back of her mind for so long.

"I don’t regret it, Oliver."

She looked up at him, he watched as her bloodshot eyes searched for some sign of disgust within him. He knew that she wouldn’t find any.

They rearranged themselves. He pulled her closer, his fingers left comforting trails along her back.

"How can I be your light, if I’ve done terrible things myself," she questioned, leaning away from him.

"Felicity, you will always be my light."

He left it there. He didn’t need to say any more. Most of all, Oliver Queen was not in the place to judge others on their past. God knows, he has done many more terrible things than Felicity could even begin to imagine.

In the early hours of the morning, when Felicity had finished murmuring of a time she wished she could forget, they vowed that whatever bothered them – regardless of what it was – they would share it with one another.

**“Four.** **  
In half-light she’ll run her fingers over your arms like she is reading words carved into your skin, binding them together into the perfect metaphor and you’ll hear it playback in your head at 4am when your head runs wild with thoughts of her.”**

 

The sunlight streamed through the blind. The rays danced on Felicity's skin. She kept her eyes tightly shut as she relished in the quiet. The nagging in her mind reminded her something had shifted. It came flooding back to her, wave after wave. It washed over her till she felt like she was drowning.   
  
The warmth beside her only emphasised the reality she faced the moment she opened her eyes. She refused to open them. Instead, she chose to keep them shut. A little bit longer, a little more time to stay in the quiet. That was all she needed.  
  
"Awake?" The warmth beside her spoke.   
  
She sighed and slowly rolled to face the warmth. Never once did she open her eyes. He must have taken this as an answer as he murmured an understanding.   
  
The tension in the air was thick. Neither of them had any intention of cutting it. They chose to ignore it.   
  
Felicity kept her eyes shut. Eventually, she sank back into the darkness. Even with him at arm’s reach, it was overpowering darkness all the same.   
  
Time slipped by. Neither one moved. The hands of the clock continued to turn. The world has stopped spinning.  
  
Once more, her eyes fluttered open to the morning sun. His breaths were deeper, the rise and fall of his chest brought her a minimal sense of comfort. Her fingertips rested on top, reminding her that he was still there.  
  
Carefully, she brushed the line of his jaw as she refreshed her memory. She stopped when he stirred, waiting for him to still once more.   
  
Her hand fell from his jaw, landing on his chest. She began to trace patterns. Patterns turned to words. Words turned to her writing three words all over her his body, whilst he obliviously slept beside her.

  
Memories of their past played on a reel in her head, dragging her under until she was sound asleep.  
  
She shot up from the bed in a panic, desperately searching for the warmth beside her. Her eyes were wild as they flitted around the pitch black room. The pounding in her chest never let up once.   
  
"Oliver?" she croaked, voice hoarse.   
  
Whimpering, she knelt forward.   
  
"Oliver?" she tried again, the edge of franticness heard in her tone.   
  
The sound of thundering footsteps echoed down the hall. Immediately, a stocky figure opened the door.

Oliver. 

"Oliver," she breathed in relief, "you left me."

"I’ll always come back."

**“Five.** **  
You’ll find a safe haven on rooftops and abandoned rooms where she’ll set fire to your insides with hushed breaths between kisses planted perfectly on your lips and make you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper.”**

The party was in full swing. He had been desperate to escape the minute she had glided down the mansions staircase in a dress that highlighted her curves and then some more. He reached for her, his hand finding its familiar resting place on her hip as he drew her close to him.

Light conversation and tinkling laughter interrupted them as they tried to pay attention to the various employees who wanted to congratulate the happy couple on their engagement. It was too much. There was too many people. It should have been personal, should have been intimate and special because that was written all over their relationship. That was everything they stood for.  

So when he escaped up to the rooftop of the mansion, she followed immediately.

It was their secret meeting place. Their sanctuary. An escape. A safe haven. A place far from the disordered and unruly life they live now.

They stayed there for hours, refusing to grace the guests with their presence – ignoring Thea’s disgruntled frown.

It wasn’t until they inched closer together, her eyes dropping to his lips and back up to his face once more that they finally indulged one another.

Her lips trailed down his jaw line, teasing him lightly as she avoided his lips.

It couldn’t described as anything other than fire as she granted him the one wish he wanted answered, for her to press her lips to his own.

Fireworks were going off left, right and centre inside him as he tugged her closer. His hands refusing to settle on her hips, her shoulders before becoming tangled in her hair as he closed any remaining gap.

He was an arsonist, setting every piece of her skin alight with just his touch.

The spell was broken when a clearing throat broke them out of their bubble in the form of an amused looking Diggle.

Needless to say, for the little time left of the party, it was more than difficult to keep their hands off one another.

**“Six.** **  
You’ll stare God right in the eye and tell him that if loving her was a sin then you want no place in heaven with him because the way her lips fit perfectly on your neck is a type of paradise you’ll never forget.”**

“You don’t deserve her,” the man holding Felicity by her neck, her delicate skin littered with grotesque purple coloured spots, spewed.

Oliver should have known one day something like this would happen. That she would be taken, dragged kicking and screaming from him.

He couldn’t move, the ropes behind his back were far too tight for him to break free from. Her eyes never left his, as she muttered pleas to their captor about letting Oliver go.

‘You don’t get to play God,’ Oliver spat back at him, because if he was going to die, he wasn’t going peacefully.

A second man appeared from behind Oliver at the captors signal. A gun appeared at his head and every part of Oliver’s mind was ringing warning bells.

There was no one left, this was it. They weren’t going to be saved. Digg was gone. Roy was lying with his limbs tangled in a way that made Oliver certain he would never walk again.

Taking a deep breath, he ignored the smell of the blood trickling down his face. The taste of iron in his mouth went unnoticed. His focus was on his golden girl, her bright crystal eyes being the only thing keeping him sane.

‘I don’t regret it. I don’t regret any of it. I love you, I love you, I lo-,”

The gunshot rang out for miles. Oliver Queen’s blood ran cold. Just before his eyes drooped closed for the last time, he caught sight of his angel with her glorious halo once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it. xo


End file.
